The Quiet Place
by eeveekitty85
Summary: This was the quiet place, the place of flowers and silence and remembrance. It didn’t exist in any reality and he visited regularly to find peace. He found it in dark spaces. Tenfic, AU


**The Quiet Place**

**Notes: **Eevee used to be a stubborn girl. She said she'd never write a Ten fic before the series started, and yet here it is. My Ten fic. Born from quiet places. AU.

Nine is OOC and supposed to be so. You'll understand. Or be confused out of your wits, whichever. One of the two.

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There were people there already, all men. All shadowed slightly as if they'd ceased to exist. Some of them looked old, frail, vaguely crotchety. Others looked out of place and awkward as they looked for a spot to plant their flowers. They were all planting flowers. Some used proper gardening tools as they fussed around the plants, and some used their bare hands, pushing the seeds into the soil.

One man had caught his attention, and the man had been him and was still a part of him, though he hadn't been feeling himself lately.

"You're getting mud on the jacket," he noted, squatting down next to the man as he scrabbled in the dirt. He named him Nine because that's what he was. The ninth part of him, and eight others dotted around the garden that blurred at the edges.

Nine looked puzzled. "You're too early," he said, rubbing the dirt from his hands. Worn hands, familiar hands. Hands that could communicate so much with just a flick or a wave or when they closed over someone else's.

"Far too early," he agreed. "But so were you." There was sadness in his words and Nine bowed his head for a moment. Nine's time had come too soon, not for him, but for her. She wasn't ready when it happened.

"Are you over?" A strange question, but Ten knew what he meant.

"Course not," he said, grinning. "I'm being careful now."

"No, you're not," said Nine, grinning back. His face suddenly grew drawn and anxious. "Look after her won't you?"

"Every day," he promised. "And the nights in between."

Nine sighed, partly in relief, partly due to immense sadness. "My roses never seem to grow like her," he said, pointing to a line of bedraggled rose bushes. Some of the others had planted a huge range of flowers and even tropical plants, but Nine's patch of soil was home only to sad, wilting blooms that were once all kinds of beautiful colours. And all roses.

"Maybe you should branch out a little. Pansies?"

"They have to be roses," snapped Nine. "They'll always be roses."

They were attracting attention from the others, but they were allowed to ignore them here. This was the quiet place, the place of flowers and silence and remembrance. It didn't exist in any reality and he visited regularly to find peace. He found in it dark spaces. He used it to get in touch with his more pleasing memories, or to find solace in his past.

He'd only needed it since the war.

"Look after her won't you?" Nine was pressing a rose into his hand. The thorns dug into his skin and made it bleed, but the puncture marks wouldn't last so that was alright. It stung a little. The thorns were very sharp, and they made the flower look vicious. Malevolent. Nine wasn't doing well with his garden at all.

"You know I will," he reminded himself. Nine was a stricken man. Had there really been that many shadows following him around? Distant screaming. It echoed everywhere.

"Hush," said the man who was little more than a boy. "Keep the quiet. Keep the quiet."

Nine looked at his rose bushes that he'd tended so lovingly. "I couldn't look after her."

"You've hurt those roses young man," said a man as he brushed past. Nine suddenly looked very small and awkward, looking at his beloved roses.

"You died for her. That was enough. She'll understand soon." A funny thought occurred to Ten. He had come here to find peace, and now he was talking Nine into peace. So he was giving himself peace? Regeneration was a fickle thing.

"Has she forgotten me yet?" There was a desperation there, a desperate loneliness. Nine was still part of Ten, but a part that would only ever be a memory now. And memories are nothing unless someone remembers them, cherishes them, holds them close to their heart.

He wasn't sure how to answer at first. "We're still there. She still has her memories. She can't forget."

"Do your hearts still leap when she smiles at you?" Nine asked, his face reminiscent. The quiet place became quiet once more as Ten searched for an answer.

"She grows more wonderful every day," he said. He chuckled. "And yes, there's heart leaping involved."

"But you must look after her," said Nine again, turning to his rose bush.

Ten felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see a man with a frilly shirt. This was Three, and he was looking kind.

"It's always difficult," he said, giving Ten a little encouraging smile. "You have to convince everyone, and that's always a little tricky."

"It takes time," said the young blond with a boyish grin. He stuck his hands in his pockets. "I'll send you a good luck card."

"Don't be ridiculous young man," said the frail, white haired man who was pruning a plant with very shiny leaves, but he didn't really look cross. Five pulled a childish face and grimaced at Ten.

They were all his friends, his past, his beginning. He couldn't hide in the quiet place much longer.

Ten looked at the bleeding rose in his hand and touched Nine's coat.

"You'll help me look after her, won't you?" he whispered.

Nine smiled, but his face was already fading and the quiet place dissolved.

Rose was shaking him gently, waking him up. "You fell asleep at the console again," she said as he looked around, wondering why he was on the floor. He scrambled to his feet like a newborn deer, unsteady on it's feet. But she was there to steady him if he needed her.

"How'd you do that?" she asked as she noticed the little cuts on his palm.

Ten looked at the cuts, and for a moment he could feel the shadow of a rose.

_Look after her…_

"TARDIS problems," he said, brushing it off. "Now, to bed Miss Tyler."

"Same one?" she asked wickedly.

"You're as bad as Jack you are," he retorted as they made their way to their separate rooms.

It wouldn't be until an hour or so later that Ten woke to find Rose lying next to him, and then he would be grateful for the company. Sometimes the quiet place was just too quiet for a rose to bloom.

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OK, who got the Peter Davison joke? (big grin) I guess that'll show up the real nerds. Now…please review?


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